


The Best Is Yet To Come

by KDtheGhostwriter



Category: Blade Runner (Movies)
Genre: Identity Issues, Introspection, Other, Post-Movie(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDtheGhostwriter/pseuds/KDtheGhostwriter
Summary: The case is closed. Deckard gets to live free and K gets to ponder on the destiny that was never his to have. Memories lost; memories gained. The cycle continues, unending.





	The Best Is Yet To Come

**Author's Note:**

> Title shared by a song from the Metal Gear Solid soundtrack because everytime I see snowfall I think of that haunting tune.

**Officer KD6 - 3.7**

It’s not a name, but it’s how I’m known. Although, Madame confiscated my badge. Without it, I can’t even be identified by my occupation.

So, what does that make me? Maybe I am just a Joe, after all.

That’s what Joi called me. Her final gift to me. A name for a real boy.

I had been with her for so long, it was easy to forget. There was no presence. She had no soul. Kinda like me. But I remember so clearly the feelings I had for her. Feelings someone - _something -_ like me should never have.

It’s all so damn confusing. Joi was a computer program. A collection of ones and zeroes, an algorithm. Why would she go through the trouble of finding a physical host to make love to me? Why would she ask to come with me to Vegas? Why tell me to break her antenna and remove her from the unit in my apartment?

Did she really think I was special? Was she really in love with me? Did it even make sense to mourn her loss?

A sharp pain shoots up my side as I sit down. I open my jacket and see snowflakes dissolving into a pool of dark red moisture in my shirt. The gash in my leg and the hole in my side. The tinman’s leaking oil fast.

I never checked for an exit wound. Not like it matters anyway. Even if the wounds were minor, where could I go to for treatment? An AWOL Replicant with no chance of clearing his baseline – I’m a dead man walking.

Except not a man and not walking.

I realize for the first time since flying to the lab how tired I am. Tired of serving. Tired of fighting. Tired of having my decisions made for me. The investigation, the corporation, the rebellion: it’s all bullshit. The only worthwhile thing I ever did in my shit stack existence was getting Deckard to his daughter.

Maybe that was it, then. I wasn’t born and I’m not special. I’m not Rick Deckard’s child and I don’t have any stake in whatever’s coming. But that’s okay. In the end, I made a choice – not because of a prophecy and not with the help of an implant. I did it on my own, because I wanted to.

Like a real boy.

I lie down on the snow-covered steps and stare up at the smog-covered sky. I begin to let my consciousness slip. It’s better this way. I’m sure of it. I’m a dog with no master. There’s no reason for me to stay alive; not when it means a life in slavery.

I’m just a cog in the wheel. The wheel’s gonna keep turning and right at the end, I finally understand. It’s not who we are or how we’re made, but what we do. Our actions outlive all of us. My actions led to a man seeing his daughter for the first time. What’s more human than that?

The prick of tears behind my eyes had been a strange new sensation when I first felt it deep in the bowels of the dead factory in San Diego. I feel it again but in a whole new context. Before, it was a suffocating feeling of hopelessness and being utterly alone. Now, I feel peace and contentment. I found my purpose and I fulfilled it. Nothing left to do but fade into the ether and sleep the big sleep.

“Time to die.”

 

…

 

“Please don’t.”

My eyes snap open and I’m suddenly very alert, if still a bit sluggish. I don’t sit up, but look to my left to see the implant maker crouched to her knees, hovering over me. Her eyes are wet with tears as well.

“Ana…”

“Oh! Deckard, come quick!”

I hear the crunch of fresh snow under shoes and look up to see Deckard peering down at me.

“Not dead, huh? Good. The Doctor here would’ve been inconsolable.”

“I-Wha?” I lose the words. Whether it’s due to the confusion or the blood loss it’s hard to say. “Deckard.”

“That’s my name. You want me to look up and to the left, too?”

Is the old man really making jokes right now? He’s missing the point. “You two need to make tracks. I’m just dead weight. Leave me.”

Dr. Stelline seemed distressed by what I said and looked up to her father, who only shrugged.

“Believe me, Joe, I see the wisdom of your words, but I’m afraid saving your ass is non-negotiable.”

“Why?”

“Tch. ‘Why,’ he says.” Deckard reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wooden toy horse with Ana’s birthday carved into the bottom. “She hasn’t seen the thing in 20 years. When I told her you were out here waiting to keel over she was beside herself.”

Ana takes my hand in hers. The tears are flowing freely now, but she’s smiling down at me. “Do not be afraid, Joe. Everything will be alright.”

Everything falls silent except for my shallow breathing. There’s a magnetism to her. If I concentrate long enough, I might even believe she’s telling the truth.

“Okay, hold his head up.” I feel Deckard move behind me and fumble with my collar before finding the port at the base of my neck. “Gotcha! This is gonna tickle, boy.”

I grimace as he plugs in the device and anxiety creeps up into me. I know what he’s doing.

“No, no! Listen, both of you! It’s not safe with me. You need to let me die.”

“We did let you die, Joe.” Deckard was up, leaning against the railing. “The authorities came to investigate the missing memory cook. All they found was an empty building and a retired Replicant.”

I look back up to Ana who is still smiling and cradling my head, ignoring the blood on her hands. There are so many things racing through my mind, but I feel it receding quickly, so I ask her the only question I have time for.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this movie dearly, and appreciated how K's arc concluded, but if they do make another, I feel this is the most plausible way for our boy to make a comeback. I don't know enough about the book to know if Matrix-like USB slots are a thing for Replicants but, it's a fanwork. Surely, an android faking its death via consciousness transfer isn't the most outlandish thing that could happen in a sci-fi story.
> 
> Go see this movie!!


End file.
